


A Series of Experiments

by valda



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos would like to achieve a particular result based on past experimentation, but unfortunately all his data comes from the same source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series of Experiments

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a [Tumblr prompt](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/131180194973/send-me-two-or-more-characters-and-a-number-and). the-child-from-italy asked: 4 Earlos :D

He had a lot of data to work with, but unfortunately it all came from the same source. This did not bode well for replicating the desired results, but it was all he had, so Carlos would do his best to use it.

For Experiment #1, he stood near the Tourniquet back alley with Dave and announced loudly, “Boy, that Earl Harlan sure does have nice hair. And nice teeth, too. And when he smiles…”

There was more to that line, but suddenly his throat closed up and his voice box refused to operate.

Experiment #1: failure.

Experiment #2 was thankfully less direct. All he had to do was remark to Cecil that Earl was his science team’s _favorite_ chef. Unfortunately, Earl chose that moment to turn on the food processor, and Carlos’ words were lost in the screams.

Experiment #2: failure.

Carlos took a long time to consider Experiment #3. Scientifically speaking, he should do it. Not doing it would deviate from the established pattern and make it impossible to project results. But the only person he could think of who had wronged Earl to a significant degree was Cecil.

Carlos winced as he held the bottle of bleach over Cecil’s furry pants. He couldn’t do it, could he? But he had to, right?

The decision was ultimately made for him. Earl charged in just as he started to tip the bottle, shouting “Oh, _Spire_ , Carlos, what are you _doing_?”

Experiment #3: inconclusive.

For Experiment #4, Carlos had to wait until Earl was wearing casual clothes. Unfortunately, Earl was most often wearing a chef’s jacket or a scout uniform. When Carlos saw him in anything casual, it was usually when he had come by to pick Cecil up for a date, and that seemed like an inappropriate time. It finally happened that he spotted Earl at the Ralph’s one day, and before he could lose his nerve he shouted at him, “Where did you get your shirt? It fits you so well!”

Earl blinked, then smiled in a friendly way. “Thanks. Macy’s had a blood moon sale last weekend.”

That wasn’t how that conversation was supposed to go at all.

Experiment #4: failure.

Experiment #5 was impossible for Carlos to replicate on his own. He fretted over whether or not he should try to make it happen, or wait for an opportunity. But when would Earl ever call him? He wouldn’t, would he?

But then he did.

“Carlos,” came Earl’s distracted voice through the earpiece, “I have to work late tonight, and Cecil’s not answering his phone.”

Carlos gazed intently at his script. “Ummm. Okay,” he said.

“Could you ask him to pick Roger up from scouts for me?”

Carlos felt a flare of panic. The next line didn’t make sense. It was supposed to go after a statement, not a question. But if he didn’t follow the script…

“Oh?” he asked, fighting to keep a tremor out of his voice.

“What was that?”

“Uh huh. Go on,” Carlos read, wincing.

“We must have a bad connection!” Earl shouted. “I’ll send Cecil a text, but thanks anyway!”

Experiment #5: failure.

He was out of data. Or at least, out of data that didn’t involve Earl blundering down into the miniature city below lane 5 of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex and nearly getting himself killed. Somehow, Carlos didn’t think that was very likely.

Weeks passed. Carlos went through the experiments in his mind over and over, trying to determine what went wrong. “Nothing _worked_ ,” he moaned quietly to himself, fretting his fingers together. “He didn’t get it at _all_. What do I do _now_?”

“Carlos?” Cecil said, choosing that opportune time to come into the living room. “Earl’s pretty tired, so we were thinking we’d just stay in and watch TV tonight. Is that okay?”

“Oh, sure,” Carlos stammered. Then he smiled. This meant Earl would be _here_! At their apartment! “Yeah, that’s fine! I’ll cook,” he said. “I mean, if it wouldn’t be intruding.”

“Not at all! That would be great, Carlos.”

An opportunity! Surely Carlos could figure something out before Earl got there. Some sort of new strategy. A new series of experiments. Something.

Unfortunately, by the time Earl arrived hours later, Carlos hadn’t figured out _anything_. He stood in the kitchen assembling fruit tacos and scowling at himself.

“Hey,” Earl said, poking his head around the corner, “need a hand? Cecil ran out to get some Armagnac.”

“Oh,” Carlos breathed. “No, I’m fine!”

“You sure?” Earl frowned a bit. “You look upset.”

“Nothing!” Carlos yelped. He closed his eyes and sighed. What would Cecil say in this situation? “Earl,” he whispered helplessly. “Lovely Earl.”

“…what?”

“Nothing!” he squeaked again, eyes flying open. “Sorry!”

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t it be like it had been with Cecil?

…then again, it hadn’t been particularly easy with Cecil either, had it? It had taken an entire year for Carlos to even get up the nerve to tell Cecil he _just wanted to see him_.

Carlos hugged his elbows. “Earl,” he said, staring resolutely at the stack of taco shells, “I just…wanted to see you.”

He sensed the other man’s approach but was still electrified when he suddenly felt Earl’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m here,” Earl said, and his voice was soft and kind and accepting and not laughing at him at all.

Carlos raised his eyes to Earl’s face. “I’m flirting with you,” he blurted. “But I don’t know how. I tried Cecil’s way but it didn’t work. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to tell you—”

And then his world was the scent of Earl’s skin and the taste of Earl’s lips and the sight of Earl’s eyes slipping blissfully closed and the feel of Earl’s hands sliding around him, one arm gripping him across the shoulders and the other tightly encircling his waist. Carlos felt himself sighing into Earl’s mouth, his own eyes closing, his arms trapped safe and secure at his sides.

At length they drew apart, Earl’s breath coming in hot pants against Carlos’ lips, his eyes dark and face flushed and arms still tight around Carlos. Carlos blinked and gulped air and tipped his face down to rest his forehead against Earl’s shoulder.

Earl’s voice sounded then, warm and gentle and soft against Carlos’ ear. “I didn’t know how to tell _you_ , either.”


End file.
